


You Made Flowers Grow in My Lungs, but I Couldn’t Breathe

by The_starstruck_prince



Series: Roses For No One [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: M/M, boyf riends — Freeform, mmmm heart hurting juice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 19:59:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11192367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_starstruck_prince/pseuds/The_starstruck_prince
Summary: It took too long for him to gently push Jeremy back, telling him that he couldn’t do this, not while Jeremy wasn’t lucid. Michael would never forget how shiny everything looked, how amazing Jeremy looked with his hair ruffled and his lips barely parted, breathing slightly heavier than usual. His best friend only nodded slowly, unsure as to why he had to stop.





	You Made Flowers Grow in My Lungs, but I Couldn’t Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of a fictional disease called the Hanahaki Disease, where a person will cough up petals and flowers due to unrequited love causing flowers to bloom in that person’s lungs. It’s also loosely based off of some fanart I saw
> 
> uhhh spoilers from the book ending, like literally almost all the dialogue here is pulled directly from or references something in the book
> 
> side note: Even though I’m using events and dialogue from the book, the characters look like how they are in the musical, i.e michael isn’t a white-bread motherfucker, neither is christine

Michael wasn’t really sure when it had started. The first time it had happened, he was high, and thought he had hallucinated the whole thing.

_Michael sat slouched in his old beanbag chair, music blasting through his headphones as he rolled a joint. A controller was balanced on one knee while the other bounced in time to the beats emitted from the headphones. He lit up the blunt, took a long drag from it, and picked up the controller, pressing start. He was bummed that Jeremy  
couldn’t hang out, so of course he was just gonna get stoned and play video games till he passed out a couple hours later._

_Jeremy…_

_A few hits later and Michael wasn’t focused on the game anymore. He stared at the screen, mind lazily turning over the thought of his best friend._

_His best friend, who he had developed a bit of a crush on._

_His best friend, who was undeniably invested in some girl._

_Michael sighed, taking a swig from a partially melted slushie from earlier. It wasn’t like his crush had spawned from nothing. There were a few times that they had shared rather intimate moments-_

_It was Jeremy’s first time, and he was nervous. Of course Michael just grinned and grabbed his hand, pulling the other closer. He took a drag off the blunt in his hand, holding it in as he beckoned Jeremy towards him. When he leaned forward, Michael caressed his cheek, moving so close that their noses almost touched, and instructed him to open his mouth._

_He blew the smoke into Jeremy’s mouth slowly, and even though he was hesitant at first, the other boy slowly inhaled it after a minute. He coughed, shaking his head and leaning away, gasping for a minute. Michael frowned in concern, but when Jeremy sat back up and nodded weakly to continue, he just laughed._

_After the first few failed attempts, they both got into the groove of passing the smoke back and forth. He wasn’t sure when it had transitioned, but now they were making out- granted, Jeremy probably had no idea what he was doing, and Michael knew it was wrong to be taking advantage of that, but he couldn’t help the way it made his heart flutter in his chest._

_It took too long for him to gently push Jeremy back, telling him that he couldn’t do this, not while Jeremy wasn’t lucid. Michael would never forget how shiny everything looked, how amazing Jeremy looked with his hair ruffled and his lips barely parted, breathing slightly heavier than usual. His best friend only nodded slowly, unsure as to why he had to stop._

Just the memory caused an itch at the back of Michael’s throat, and he coughed into his hand, his shoulders jerking forward. When his coughing fit ended, Michael gazed into his open palm- a few pink petals spattered on his palm, slick with saliva. He shuddered in disgust, standing and crossing the room, depositing the petals in the trash, trying to ignore the number of flowery pieces that were steadily piling up.

Michael collapsed into his chair again, his head spinning.

_Damn you, Jeremy, he thought bitterly. Damn you for being caught up with Christine._

He knew he was acting like a child and being selfish over the matter, but now that his physical health began declining, he wasn’t so sure that he could keep up the charade much longer.

 

“Michael!” Michael perked up, spotting Jeremy in the crowded hallway. He grinned happily, making his way over.

“Hey buddy, what’s up?” He asked brightly. Today was a good day- he was listening to his favourite Bob Marley song and his best friend was calling for him- then he noticed the despairing expression on Jeremy’s face and pulled off his headphones, smile faltering. “You look like ass, what’s wrong?”

“I wrote Christine a letter telling her how I feel…” He started. Michael bit back the burning feeling in his throat, trying to wash it away with the red slush in his hand; it helped, but his chest still felt uncomfortably tight.

“That’s progress!” His voice sounded too fake-happy in his own ears.

“-I tore it up and flushed it.”

“Uhg.” Michael rolled his eyes, masking the relief that pulled the crushing weight off his shoulders.

“It’s still progress…” Jeremy mumbled, the tips of his ears turning red.

“It’s all good,” Michael waved his hand, desperate for a change in topic. He started rambling about a new video game that he found.

“Anyways, I was thinking you could-”

“Sign up for the school play!”

Michael frowned. “I mean, I was gonna say come over and hang out later, but-”

“No, I mean look who’s signing up for the school play!” Jeremy pointed to the poster on the wall. “Christine!”

Michael felt his heart sink in his chest at the name. He hacked violently into his hand, hastily shoving a few wet petals that had come up into his jacket pocket and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He tried not to notice how Jeremy didn’t even ask him if he was okay- it was probably for better, anyway.

He didn’t try to stop Jeremy from walking away from him, only watched as he neatly scribbled his name on the signup sheet. Someone- probably Jake or Rich- shouted, “Gay!” and there was bubbles of laughter in the crowded hallway, but Michael had already put his headphones back on, dissolving into the crowd.

Michael didn’t want to go to school. He wanted to stay in his bed and rot away. He wanted those damn flowers to stop coming, and he wanted Jeremy to be his best friend again. He curled up into fetal position, not bothering to blink back the stinging tears that pricked the edges of his eyes.

He was vaguely aware of his mom opening the door, softly calling for him to wake up, to get ready to go. He mumbled something about still feeling sick, and after a moment- with a probably disapproving look- his mother shut the door. He listened to her retreating footsteps and wished he could curl further into himself and just disappear.

 

School without Jeremy sucked ass. Even Marley couldn’t help that, not when he would see Jeremy with the other, popular people, not when he would sit and laugh with the guys at lunch, not when he would watch him coolly walk to play rehearsal to be with Christine. Michael coughed into his duvet, pitifully rolling over to lean off the bed, spitting up flowering buds and even more petals.

He raked in a shuddering breath, and felt the urge to be sick.

It had gotten much worse after Jeremy started ignoring him. He was missing more school, the days stacking onto each other quickly. Work that Michael wouldn’t bother to touch- he and Jeremy always did their homework together- was beginning to pile up, and his anxiety was through the roof.

He had given up trying to talk to him. Jeremy had a _squip_ now, he didn’t need Michael, that much was clear.

Michael squeezed his eyes shut tight, wishing that it was just a bad dream, a nightmare, that it would end and Jeremy would be there to make sure everything was okay.

He pressed his face into his duvet and tried to force the gears in his mind to stop turning.

 

_Why am I even here?_

_I have no reason to be here. I could leave. No one would notice._

_I should’ve stayed home._

_This was a bad idea._

Michael braced his hands against the cold ceramic sink, staring at his reflection. He looked like hell; he had thought he was going to puke, which lead to him locking himself in the second story bathroom of Jake Dillinger’s house during the biggest party of the season.

Now he was staring himself down in the spotless bathroom mirror, choking back tears. He felt too hot, too sick, so he pushed his sleeves up; he shivered, and pulled his sleeves back down. He chewed at his lip, wishing to be in his basement, alone with his music; wishing to be anywhere other than there.

_Why am I even here?_

_Oh, right._

He was going to try to talk to Jeremy. What would he even try to say?

_Hey, asshole._

_Hey Jeremy, how’s it feel to finally be cool?_

_Hey, why did you just abandon me?_

_What happened to player 2?_

Michael wrinkled his nose, the tip of his nose and the corners of his eyes stinging, right before tears broke through. He buried his face in his arm for a minute, soft whimpers emitted from the back of his throat. He choked on the feeling of his throat closing up, trying to ignore the bile and flowers trying to force their way out of his body. He collapsed on the floor, his body quivering as he curled into himself.

_Why shouldn’t I just kill myself anyway? I don’t have any other reason to live. I don’t have any other friends. I’ll never be cool enough for Jeremy._

Just thinking his name made it impossible to breathe, all of a sudden; Michael forced himself over to the toilet, hacking violently. A colorful assortment of flowers and petals fell into the bowl, leaving him rasping for breath. He slumped to the floor, bitterly thankful for the ability to breathe. Someone was knocking on the door, telling him to hurry up. He didn’t answer, instead flushing the toilet and shakily rising to his feet.

_What did I do wrong, Jeremy? Why weren’t you just content with me? With what we had?_

Michael faced himself in the mirror again, pointing out all the flaws he could see in himself. Someone was knocking again, and then it turned into banging, someone shouting from behind the door; Michael couldn’t hear what they were saying, and frankly he didn’t care. He turned on the water, pushing his glasses up to the top of his head before splashing his face. The cold shock helped to ground his senses a bit, helped him to stop trembling.

_I can do this. I just have to get out of here, and I can go home, and it’ll be fine._

He wiped his face on his sleeve before pushing them up again, turning towards the door. There was no more knocking, no more shouting. He put his hand on the doorknob, willing himself to grip and turn. He took a deep breath, and pushed open the door.

The smell of smoke hit him first. He stepped out, looking around, listening; He could hear the crackling of a fire and distant yelling.

Of _fucking_ course this would happen.

He quickly made his way down the staircase. He couldn’t see fire, but he could hear it, could smell it, could feel it, breathing hot on the back of his neck. Once he hit the landing, he saw the flames. It seemed like it was everywhere- engulfing everything in fiery tongues of orange. Michael could feel the panic in his chest rising as he looked around helplessly, trying to find a way out.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuck-_

A hand slammed down on Michael’s shoulder, making his knees buckle a bit. He twisted around to see-

_Jake!_

Jake was seething through his gritted teeth, a small body slung over his shoulder. “C’mon!” He growled, making way for the engulfed door. Easily he kicked it down- as he passed, Michael caught a glimpse of who he was carrying.

Rich was slumped over Jake’s shoulder, limp and unresponsive. His eyes fluttered open for a moment, face contorted in pain- Michael stared at his chest and arms, where instead of the normal shirt or tank, just burned, charred skin remained.

Then he was gone. Michael ran through the door as well, graciously breathing in the cool, October air. He doubled over coughing before collapsing on the ground. He heard the wail of a fire engine in the distance, and closed his eyes.

_Fuck you, Jeremy Heere_ , he thought, finally heaving himself up when the lights came closer, not wanting to be there when firefighters arrived. He got into his car, breathing a sigh of relief as he discovered his keys were still in his pocket. He couldn’t see Jake or Rich anymore. He made a mental note to thank Jake later.

 

Michael forced himself to shower and go to school Monday, if only to hear about the fire. Today, he didn’t bother with his headphones; they stayed curled around his neck, like a sleeping dragon. When Michael slipped through the high school’s doors, it was too quiet. There was a quiet murmur from the students gathered around the lockers, but it wasn’t the normal chatter. He pushed forward, trying to see.

Everyone was crowded around Jake and Rich’s lockers, a steadily growing pile of flowers at the floor. Just seeing the plants made Michael feel sick, and he turned away. As he was about to walk away, someone grabbed his shoulder- he thought back to Saturday night, the same shoulder that Jake had leaned on. Images of his face and Rich’s burned body rolled in his mind, and he shook his head. 

“Michael!” Someone shouted. Michael snapped out of his daze, turning around. It was Jeremy. He was suddenly wrapped into a hug, his chin barely grazing the top of Jeremy’s shoulder. He didn’t move, just stood there, frowning. Christine trailed behind Jeremy, wearing muted grey, silent.

“ _Dude_ , Jesus, I’m so glad you’re okay! I couldn’t find you after everyone else got out, and I had to take Christine home, You didn’t answer any of my texts or calls-” Michael pushed him away.

“Michael…?”

“No. You know what, Jeremy? I’m done. _Fuck you_. You don’t get to ignore me for two months, then leave me to die in a burning house for your chance to get with Christine, and then come back and pretend you’re _glad_ I’m _fine_ ” Michael jabbed his finger into Jeremy’s chest angrily, biting back the tickle in his throat.

“Michael, I-”

“Don’t you have more important friends to attend to?” Michael said coldly. He whipped around, storming off. He wished that he didn’t hear the pathetic sniffle from Jeremy, or the soft whisper of Christine trying to comfort him. He slipped out the back way of the school, walking home. He slipped inside, stomped down to his basement, and slammed the door.

Michael pressed his back up against the door, squeezing his eyes shut as hot tears began to roll down his cheeks. He slid down, sinking onto the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest. His whole body quivered as ugly sobs echoed in the room- the kind where you had to gasp for breath, each exhale ending in a pathetic whimper. He wished for Jeremy’s arms around him again, his bony shoulder to cry on, that soft voice whispering to calm him down.

It was gone for sure now.

Michael didn’t move, just let himself cry until he couldn’t anymore, till he crawled to his beanbag chair and curled into it, trying to stop shaking. He fell asleep like that- crying was so exhausting, who knew?

A couple weeks later found Michael begrudgingly shuffling into the school’s auditorium. It was opening night for the school play, and even though he had planned to stay home, the nagging feeling in the back of Michael’s mind told him to go. Theatre was really important to Jeremy, and yeah, Jeremy had been treating him like shit, but Michael still wanted to see if he could salvage what little bit of friendship he and Jeremy had left.

He found a comfortable place in the back near the corner, settling into one of the old chairs and propping his feet up. The play started, and he busied himself with his gameboy until he heard Jeremy stumbling over his lines as Lysander. He looked up, watching his best friend- not even his friend, anymore- as he acted alongside the other students. Michael squirmed in his seat and pulled his jacket around himself tighter, noticing how Jeremy seemed flat, obviously using his squip to remember his lines. He  
thought back to his brother, how his squip had messed up his brain, how he became distant like Jeremy had…

A collective gasp from the crowd brought Michael back to his senses. He straightened in his seat, scanning the stage.

“–Christine, I’m asking you here and now; would you like to, uh, go out with me?”

Michael blinked. Is he seriously doing that now?! Michael watched wide eyed as Christine sneered at Jeremy, hissing out a response that seemed to shatter him. Something happened, but Michael couldn’t hear over his own heartbeat in his ears. The play seemed to carry on, Jeremy left the stage after the scene was over, and when the lights fell on the stage again, Lysander was replaced by Mr. Reyes. Michael got up, pushing his way through the parents who were crowding the back where there weren’t any more chairs, mumbling ‘excuse me’ every so often. He slipped out the exit into the cold November air.

There he was, sitting on the edge of the curb, crying into his hands.

“Jeremy?”

“Michael?” Jeremy looked up, sniffling and wiping his eyes and nose on his sleeve.

“What the _hell_ was that?” Michael walked over, plopping onto the curb next to Jeremy, close enough to touch shoulders, but not quite. He still hadn’t gotten over Jeremy  
ignoring him.

“Trying to get with Christine!” Jeremy said pathetically. He picked up a pebble off the ground, inspected it, then tossed it to the side. “She called me a loser…” He mumbled.

Michael coughed into his sleeve. “You planned to do that? On-stage, in front of about two or three hundred people?”

Jeremy stood up, wrapping his arms around himself, shivering. Obviously his _squip_ told him that wearing a coat was lame. “Look man, it wasn’t me, okay?! It wasn’t my idea! I got a squip, and it told me to-”

“Hah! So it is true, you’ve been acting like a dick to me because you got a squip!” 

“Well, yeah- but I didn’t think it was going to block you out, it’s got this thing called optic nerve blocking or whatever, I literally couldn’t even see you!” Jeremy tried to  
defend himself, sniffling.

Michael sighed, heaving himself onto his feet. He pulled off his jacket and thrust it out to Jeremy. “Here, before you freeze your ass off.” He said indignantly. Jeremy gratefully accepted it, pulling it on and mumbling a quiet thank you. Michael crossed his arms.

“So… what’s the squip saying to you now? Telling you to go lick your wounds and then come back and pretend it was a joke or whatever?” Michael asked, still obviously put-off.

“No!” Jeremy shot back, annoyance tinting his tone. “It’s not responding to me, like at all. It hasn’t since…” Jeremy nodded towards the door leading back into the school. He froze suddenly.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“It just started.”

Michael frowned. “What? The squip?”

Jeremy’s face contorted in anger, and he stomped his foot, much like a child. “You’d better be sorry!” He shouted into the cold night, his breath visible in an icy cloud, curling up into the darkness and dissipating into nothing. “-that doesn’t help me now!” He said, tears forming his eyes again.

Michael watched, realizing that Jeremy was talking to his squip. When he sighed defeatedly and buried his face in his hands, Michael felt his heart melt a little, more in pity that anything. He didn’t realize how hard this was on Jeremy. Selfish, he reminded himself.

“Look, dude, why don’t- why don’t you just tell Christine about the squip? Maybe she’ll understand why you did it and forgive you?” Michael made a growling noise, as if he were trying to clear his throat, trying to banish the itch that kept crawling up his throat.

“No, I’m done with Christine. She’s done with me, there’s no use…” He said, making his way back over to the curb and sitting back down. Michael sighed again, frowning.  
“C’mon dude, you can’t just give up like that-”

“Yes, I can.”

“You’ve liked her since the seventh grade!”

“And I just embarrassed her in front of everyone on that damn auditorium!” Jeremy said, covering his face as his voice broke on the last word.

Michael shivered- it really was cold, but Jeremy had his jacket and he wasn’t about to ask for it back- and crossed his arms over his chest again, refusing to sit back down. “Well, what are you going to do now?” He asked.

The other boy just shrugged. “Give up on love forever, I guess.”

Michael felt all his pent up frustration bubble up inside of him suddenly, hot and volatile, like a volcano.

“God, Jeremy, you really are blind, aren’t you?!” He hissed out, pushing his glasses up and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I- what?” Jeremy stammered out, looking up. Michael was briefly reminded of a lost puppy.

“You just- can’t you see what you’re doing to me?” Michael asked, exasperated, moving his glasses back down so he could see Jeremy with clarity.

Jeremy stared blankly at him.

Michael gestured around with his hand, shifting from foot to foot, trying to get the right words to come out. “You don’t- you’re not seeing- uhg, fuck-” He groaned. Jeremy got up, walking over and standing in front of him.

“Dude, Michael, breathe. Take your time, it’s alright, okay?” He said, putting his hand on Michael’s arm, squeezing it for a second. Michael looked down at Jeremy’s hand, then back up at Jeremy, before finally dropping his gaze to the haphazardly sewn-on patches on his jacket. Everything seemed to slow down as he grabbed the edges of his jacket and pulled Jeremy forward.

It was a simple kiss, just a touch, barely lasting for more that five seconds, but it said everything that Michael couldn’t. When he let go of Jeremy, he stared down at his converse.

“This entire time you’ve been after Christine, I’ve been after you. I was hoping that you’d see that, but…” He trailed off. He felt lost- what the hell comes after this? An apology?

“A-a-and I, um, I know you don’t feel the same way, but I just- I needed you to know that it, uh, really sucks that you’ve been this huge dick to me for about three months but it didn’t change any of my feelings for you.” Jeremy pressed himself closer, wrapping his arms around Michael tightly. Michael returned the embrace awkwardly, trying to place how Jeremy was feeling.

“Jeremy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for telling you all that. And also for kissing you.”

Jeremy laughed softly, still clinging to Michael. Michael felt him shiver, so the closeness was either because he was trying to comfort him or he was just cold.

“It’s fine, really. Um… I need to think about this though, like, a lot. Especially with Christine and everything, just sort my feelings out and stuff…”

“Yeah, of course… “ Michael let go of the other. “You’re not… gonna start ignoring me again, are you?”

Jeremy shook his head quickly.

“No way dude. I promise.” He said solemnly.

“Good. You wanna ride home?” Michael dug in his pocket for his keys. “Actually, could I spend the night?"

Michael grinned happily. “Hell yeah man, hop in.” He said, getting into his car and starting it, immediately turning on the heat. As Jeremy slid into the passenger seat, he cleared his throat.

“Michael?”

“Mhm?”

“I’m sorry for everything the past few months.”

“It’s alright, you can make it up to me tonight by just hanging out and playing video games, deal?”

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr, @the-starstruck-prince or @drabbles-of-a-cosmonaut !! <3


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